


Sick Like Me

by ephemerall



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: All hurt no comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Torture, forced anal sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 10:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11849499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemerall/pseuds/ephemerall
Summary: They were such good weapons against each other.  But he was bored.  Fucking the kitten was sweet, it felt good, but it wasn’t good enough anymore.  Kitten just laid there like a dead thing – he didn’t cry anymore, he didn’t struggle; he took all the fun out of it.  He needed something different – something that would hurt them both too deep to forget.





	Sick Like Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ilovelocust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilovelocust/gifts).



> I asked ilovelocust for permission to play in her Kitten 'verse. Oh, I've gone so far down the rabbit hole. This is not pretty.
> 
> Also, this is completely unbeta'd. Excuse my errors.

The pet had done well enough playing his games – he was learning to obey so much quicker when the punishment that followed was for his lover. They were such good weapons against each other. But he was bored. Fucking the kitten was sweet, it felt good, but it wasn’t good enough anymore. Kitten just laid there like a dead thing – he didn’t cry anymore, he didn’t struggle; he took all the fun out of it. He needed something different – something that would hurt them both too deep to forget. Not that he thought Kitten would ever forget anything they did together.

 

Undressing the pet over and over became tedious, so the little thing was lying curled up in the corner. His weaker self was slumped against the wall, human hand shackled, but his eyes were always on his pet. It gave him an idea. He stood between the two, looking back and forth, and his weaker self grew wary at the grin now splitting Kuro’s face. Oh this, this was going to be so good.

 

He walked over to the kitten, crouched down and ran his fingers through his tangled hair. He hit a snag and Kitten flinched. Kuro pet him gently, his little body shaking, and then without warning fisted his hands in Kitten’s hair and dragged him over to Shiro. He threw him at Shiro, close enough for them to touch. He watched Kitten crawl to his lover, watched his weaker self whisper placations and comfort into the kitten’s hair. Oh, this display just confirmed that this might even be his best idea yet.

 

He reached down and burned through the rope holding Kitten’s wrists together. “Try anything and I’ll break both of your arms.” Kitten didn’t answer, he only trembled. “We’re going to have a little fun.”

 

“Please,” his weaker self pleaded. “Do whatever you want to me, just – “

 

“No. This is how it’s going to go. You’re going to fuck the kitten.”

 

He almost laughed at the widening of Shiro’s eyes. Kitten curled into himself. Shiro shook his head. “No.”

 

He couldn’t have that kind of disrespect. He walked away, to the crate in the corner, rummaged through it, and came back with a black coil. He watched his weaker self, watched the panic flare in his eyes as Kuro unfurled the whip. He grabbed the kitten by the ankle and dragged him to the middle of the floor.

 

“Get on your hands and knees,” he commanded. It was such a pretty sight to see Kitten’s shoulders tremble with the cries he was holding in. Kitten pleaded, but did as told, and he was barely up before the whip cracked. Kitten’s cry was almost satisfying. A long, red stripe of skin opened on Kitten’s back. He looked to his weaker self. “You’re going to fuck him.”

 

“I can’t,” Shiro whispered. The whip came down again and the kitten pitched forward, another stripe appearing crisscrossing the other. Again. And again. The little thing had fallen forward, cheek pressed to the floor, crying. “Ok!” His weaker self shouted. “Ok. Just… just stop.”

 

Kuro said nothing. He grabbed the pet by the back of the neck and dragged him over. “Open your legs,” he said to Shiro. He obeyed. He threw the pet between Shiro’s legs. “Suck him.” Kitten looked up at him, those pretty eyes full of tears, red rimmed. “Get him hard or I whip him next.”

 

With trembling hands the kitten unfastened Shiro’s pants. His weaker self squeezed his eyes shut. Kitten pulled him out, dick soft, and carefully brought his mouth to weaker self’s cock, barely slipping it past his lips.

 

“I _know_ you can do better than that. Do it right, or I’ll cut it off.”

 

Kitten sniffled and took the whole soft thing into his mouth. It took a lot longer than his memory supplied, but given the situation, it wasn’t like he didn’t expect it. The shame on Shiro’s face was beautiful – his little pet suffering and he was still getting it up. He walked up, put his hand on the back of Kitten’s head and pushed. He didn’t disappoint – the cock in his mouth disappeared entirely, all the way into the pet’s throat. Kitten gagged, fought to bring his head up, but no – he wanted to see him choke on Shiro’s cock like his memories showed him. When the kitten started to push against the floor with his hands, Kuro let him go. He pulled off, coughing and sucking in deep breaths.

 

“Now fuck him.”

 

“We need the – “

 

“No,” he said to his weaker self. “You’re going to use his spit – nothing more.”

 

He watched Shiro’s face, the look and twitch of his mouth saying he was going to protest. But the little pet shook his head. “Don’t, Shiro. Just… just do it.”

 

Kitten got up on his knees, straddling his lover’s lap. He reached back to steady the cock under him and pressed it between his cheeks, pressing down. From where he stood he could see the difficulty; even he knew spit wasn’t enough, not slick enough, but they weren’t meant to enjoy any of it. He wanted them to hurt each other – create a chasm that they’d never be able to bridge. The idea was so sweet he could taste it on his tongue.

 

“Get on with it or I’ll fuck him dry.”

 

The shackled hand came to the kitten’s hip. Kitten kept his head hung and reached out to brace himself on Shiro’s shoulders. “I’m sorry,” Shiro whispered. “Keith, I’m sorry.”

 

His weaker self tightened his hold on the kitten, pushing him down while thrusting up with his legs. The breach was forceful, not slick enough, and the kitten wailed. It was even better than he thought it would be, especially with the blood running down the pet’s back in rivulets, curving down his spine and between his cheeks. Shiro, to his delight, kept up his thrusting while Kitten shook, but he was too gentle, too slow. That wouldn’t do. “Harder,” Kuro said.

 

The kitten raised his head, looked at Shiro. “Just do it,” he said. Kuro had to see his face, and moved around to do so. Oh, that broken look. It was a sight to behold on the little thing’s face. Kitten was pale, paler than before, and there was sweat standing out on that porcelain skin. His soft cock rested between them. To his credit though, Kitten raised himself up and dropped back down. “Shiro, please. Just…”

 

His weaker self thrust up harder and the pet shook and cried, slumping forward and pressing his face into Shiro’s neck. He thought about the way those tears must burn Shiro’s skin, turn his insides to ice knowing that _he_ was the one causing his pet pain. Him and him alone. He brought his hand up, tangled it gently in the kitten’s hair, palm pressed to the back of Kitten’s head.

 

“It’s ok,” he said. “Keith, it’s going to be ok.” His words to hollow, even to Kuro’s ears. It was better than the sweetest music. Kitten was sobbing into his neck; it was so perfectly clear it was just too much for the little thing’s mind to handle.

 

“Please,” he whispered. “Please, Shiro…”

 

It was the sweetest torture he’d seen from Kitten yet. He was begging his lover to finish. His weaker self closed his eyes, brows drawn together, and the brutal pace he set to hurry his completion had to be tearing the kitten’s insides apart. There was no pleasure in Shiro’s face when he came.

 

“Keith,” he whispered. “Keith… please. Please, tell me you’re ok.” Kitten was perfectly silent. Kuro recognized that blank, glassy look. Kitten was checked out now – so much worse than when he’d tried it with Kuro. “Talk to me. _Please_.”

 

Kuro rolled his eyes. He grabbed the pet under the arms and unceremoniously dragged him off of Shiro’s cock. His weaker self glanced down, dick wet with come and blood. The look of horror on his face was so good Kuro wished he’d taken a picture. He dropped Kitten on the floor, out of reach of the other, and he lay there. He didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, pretty tears leaking from his eyes. His weaker self choked, leaned over and was sick on the floor. Pathetic. And not polite. If he was bothered by rank smells he’d force Shiro to clean it up himself, but he didn’t care. Let it sit there. Shiro would see it, smell it, and know why he’d puked, what he’d done to his cute little pet.

 

He studied his handy work. They were so much prettier when they were broken. His weaker self openly cried. He didn’t bother to tie up the little kitten; he wouldn’t be going anywhere. Even Kuro knew that humans only had a certain threshold for trauma – Kitten’s had be plowed over, ground in like glass, and left in jagged pieces. His weaker self, the Kitten, they’d never recover, never be the same.

 

It was the prettiest masterpiece he’d created yet.

 

“I’m going to kill you,” his weaker self said, voice so sweetly broken.

 

Kuro shrugged. “Maybe some day. But we have so much more fun to have.”

 

“Go fuck yourself,” his weaker self spat.

 

Shiro was sitting there, softened dick hanging out. Kuro raised an eyebrow, gave an appraising look from top to bottom of his weaker self. He hummed. “Maybe I will.”


End file.
